If you are reading this then you probably knew Linda, either from her childhood, from here in France, or from somewhere in between. Linda was born, bred, and brought up in Liverpool. She was a true Scoucer and loved the city and its people with a passion.
As a young child, she would walk with her father down to the docks to look at the big liners and to stare at the Liver building. She loved these walks and cherished them all her life. She also adored her father, difficult as he could be at times.
Originally, the family lived in a two-up-two-down in Elmore Street, where they were surrounded by different family members on the same and on surrounding streets. Linda was never short of friends to play with from the street, and they would spend hours running wild, exploring bombed out houses of which there were many. She loved those times and always said they were the happiest of her life.
Her primary school was run by nuns, who managed to instill in her a lifelong hatred of the Catholic Church. She had to learn the catechism and go to mass on Sundays. She made her first confession and took Holy Communion at age seven. She always used to say what sins can a seven year old confess to. She lived in terror of dying and going to purgatory. It is terrible to think that one so young lived in fear of the god she was supposed to love.
Linda was always wild and rebellious, but as she grew older these traits became more apparent. There were incidents like slapping her form teacher or beating to pulp boys who annoyed her; however, she always loved art and was very good at it.
In the early sixties, Liverpool was home to the Cavern club and by sixteen Linda was always there. She had grown into a strikingly attractive young woman so it is not surprising that Mick Jagger asked her to dance.
At eighteen, Linda was in Jersey. where her sister Maureen was working. Linda worked at Lyns photographers, hence the professionally taken photo of her in the graduation gown. It was in Jersey that she met Mick, a Jersey man, and married him in 1968, when she was twenty. They returned to England to live in various places, such as Derby and Formby, and it was during this time that her daughters Maureen and Sarah were born.
In the early 1970s, the family returned to Jersey. By the early 1980s, their marriage was suffering, and in 1983 I first met Linda. I remember one meeting very clearly; she was standing by her little brown Mini which was in my mother’s drive. She was wearing a very tight pair of white jeans which showed off her beautiful legs to perfection. I fell in love and lust with her immediately and have loved her ever since.
We rented a house in 1985 and moved in together. We were there for two years and bought our first house in St. Helier in 1987. In Jersey there is strange system where you have to be residentially qualified to buy a house. Linda had the qualifications so she was allowed to live in the house and I paid the mortgage. If we had an argument, Linda would remind me that I was only the lodger and she could throw me out if she wanted to.
The house was an old Victorian town house on three floors. We did it up slowly, and it was at this time that I realised how good Linda was at DIY. Her tiling was very professional. We had a tiny back garden, which we developed. It was always full of flowers. Linda had green fingers and loved growing things from grafts. It was also a place for our two Bichons Frises dogs to enjoy. Linda always loved animals.
The-mid 1990’s saw the marriage of Linda’s two daughters, and after this we both felt the need to move off the island, which was tiny, expensive, and overcrowded. Sarah and her husband, Peter, had moved off the island, and during their time in London, we went to see them. We had a wonderful meal with them and Linda, of course, had to talk to the two punk gays who were in the restaurant. They looked very intimidating but were wonderful to talk to. Linda loved gays and talking to unusual people, the more eccentric the better.
In the summer of 1997, we both came separately to do a course in a house perched on the side of the gorge valley of the River Loup near Nice in France; we both fell in love with the valley and gorge and knew that we had to live here. I had been at Linda for some time about this, saying that my job as hydrographic surveyor allowed us to live anywhere.
So in 1997, in the space of three months we had sold our town house in St. Helier, rented a house here in the valley, and had moved to France with our two dogs and cat. We kept a flat in Jersey, just in case we wanted to move back. However, it soon became apparent that we loved living here.
In 1998, we bought La Coulinette for a price that was tiny in comparison with the price that was paid for our house in Jersey. This allowed us to redevelop the house, which was two flats. We fell in love with the house and its spectacular views across the valley up to the medieval village of Bar sur Loup. The house also has a massive garden.
The inside redevelopment took two years with us living upstairs whilst the ground floor was done and vice versa for the upstairs. It was a huge strain for the both of us as we had the normal problems with French builders. However by 2001, her studio was ready and she started painting in earnest. It was like watching a volcano explode. For fifty three years she had wanted to paint; now, she finally had her chance and she took it. She developed not just one style but four. The beautiful, croissonette style; landscapes; the paintings using pebbles from the River Loup; stunning flowers; and, then the abstracts that she used to love to play with. Her output was prodigious, and people bought them, even the ones she painted when she was depressed.
Her idea for pebble paintings was extraordinary. I had been at home working on seabed charts for about a month. The charts, depicting what the composition of the seabed is, are always highly coloured. Six weeks later, along came the first of the pebble pictures. Her ability to see something and express it in a different way was truly wondrous. Her pictures now hang on walls from Sweden to the USA and many places in between.
She was so happy sitting in her studio with the beautiful view and the wonderful crystal clear winter light. She would lose herself for several hours. Her energy and vibrancy can be felt in all her pictures and are a lasting legacy. After her childhood this was the best period of her life. She at last felt secure and confident enough in herself to the extent that she had her first exhibition in 2007 in Tourrettes sur Loup. This was a great success and was followed by others. Linda painted for the sheer creative pleasure it gave her. If people bought her pictures then all well and good but it was not the driving force.
In 2001, I also finally persuaded Linda to marry me after eleven years of living together.
Linda never lost her Scouce sense of humour, and she had a razor sharp tongue. During the mid-1990s, she came out to the United States to help me when I was doing a shore-based job. The client summoned us to Washington for a dinner meeting. We were in a very swish restaurant just down the road from the White House. The rather pompous president of the company came across to introduce himself with no idea what he was letting himself in for.
He said to Linda, ‘I hope you don’t mind if I talk business with your husband this evening.’
Linda replied, quick as a flash, with ‘yes, I do.’
The president’s jaw just dropped open and he was completely speechless. I could see the finance director behind him dying with laughter.
Linda left it a suitable period, to ensure maximum effect, before replying, ‘no, of course I don’t mind, it was just a joke.’ She had made her point though.
Unfortunately, the good times cannot last forever, and old age was creeping up on us both. In August 2018, she had a minor stroke, luckily I was at home. Due to her heavy smoking there were complications, which put her in intensive care for twelve days and on the lung ward for another two weeks. Life was never the same again as she was diagnosed with chronic emphysema requiring oxygen at night. Sadly, she developed a slight shake in her hands, which meant that she could not do what she loved most and that was to paint.
The stroke also affected her appetite, and getting her to eat enough became extremely difficult. A gradual decline set in, which was so sad to see. Her bout of pneumonia in July of this year did not help. It left her with very little energy.
Perhaps, her passing was a blessing, as the quality of her life was bad and getting worse. She died here in her beautiful home in the valley that she adored. I was by her side, and she knew nothing of it.
She is buried in the beautiful cemetery of Bar sur Loup and has a view up to the mountains and down to the River Loup, which she loved and painted so beautifully.
She was my wife, my lover, and my best friend for thirty six years. Her spirit lives within me, and I feel the energy and vibrancy of her every time I look at her paintings on our walls.
As they say in Liverpool, I loved the bones of her.
Sean
Act of Remembrance 